


The Alien Pornographers and the Saviors of the World

by GlitterAndDoom



Series: Aliens Make Them Do It [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Crack, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAndDoom/pseuds/GlitterAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both glared at the aliens. "I'm STRAIGHT," Tommy repeated, through gritted teeth, while Adam shouted, "The fate of the world depends on THIS?"</p><p>The aliens nodded solemnly. "It's for science," the British one said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Alien Pornographers and the Saviors of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Written for glam_kink. Crack. Porn.  
> Warnings: Explicit sex, dubious consent issues (both parties forced to have sex for the sake of the world while under the influence of alien drugs), and pure crack

Their clothes vanished, and, suddenly, Tommy had to try not to look at Adam's massive monster cock.

" _Dude!_ " Dear fuck, that thing was _huge_. How the fuck had any of those guys ever managed—

"Impressive," said one of the aliens, in a deep, British— _British?_ What the fucking fuck?—accent, as it...he...whatever and the other alien took in their naked bodies with their beady black eyes. Adam blushed bright red from his face to his shoulders, and Tommy could feel his own cheeks flush beneath their impassive, slimy gaze.

Fuck, they were disgusting.

Deciding it would be best to ignore them, he stared out the window at the unforgiving darkness of space and reached down to shield his junk with his hands. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ One minute, they'd been outside the venue, drunk on life and alcohol. The next... _fuck!_ "I'm not even gay!"

He saw a flash out of the corner of his eyes, and Adam let out a pained squawk. Oh, shit. They didn't...He whipped his head around, and, fuck, Adam was a _chick_. Tommy's dick tried to crawl inside himself in sympathy, and his stomach twisted into a tight ball. Shit, that was even _worse_. He tried not to look, but, oh, _fuck_ , Adam was _hot_ as a woman, and he couldn't quite cover one of the most luscious pairs of tits Tommy had ever seen while protecting his dignity down below.

"This," Adam choked out, "is _so_ not going help."

Except Tommy's dick was starting to get interested, oh, fuck. He turned away and stared at the mucus slinking down the length of one of the alien's tentacles, trying not to think about breasts and curves and sex.

It didn't help much.

"We simply wish," the British alien said, "to observe the act of consensual sex between—"

"Not. Gay," Tommy gritted out, reminding his dick that Adam was a _man_ most of the time, and he let out a long-suffering huff. All the times he had to say it... "Much as I may be _jealous as fuck_ of his ridiculous dick—"

"And could you give me that back, please?"

"—I'm _really_ not all that interested in taking a ride on it." _Especially_ after seeing it. Christ.

"Even if the survival of y'all's species depended on it?" the other alien asked, in a disconcertingly sweet Southern woman's voice, and pulled out an ominously black remote control with an ominously glowing red button on the top. Tommy swallowed, and he cast an uncertain glance at Adam, who was too busy whimpering in pain as he turned back into a man to care.

"You couldn't—" Adam swayed on his feet, and Tommy grabbed his arm, holding him steady. Adam's brief grateful smile turned into a grimace, and he rubbed his chest and mouthed, "ow," then finished asking, "You couldn't do it some other way? Because I can show you some _amazing_ porn that'll have even—"

"We, er," the British alien said, "have another hypothesis we would like to test, gentlemen."

"Oh?" Adam asked.

The female alien replied, "We would like to know if the...fang-irls?"

"Fangirls," Adam and Tommy corrected, and, with a sinking feeling in his gut, Tommy suddenly knew where this was going. Fangirls. _Shit_.

"Thank you. Fangirls' theory that, um," she cleared her throat, "'If Tommy Joe got a taste of Adam's magical unicorn dick—'" Adam choked, and Tommy cringed so hard his face ached. That was one of the fics they'd read during the troupe's dramatic, drug-fueled fanfic reading a few weeks back. "'—he would never go back to icky, sticky vag ever again,' is correct."

Adam and Tommy stared at each other. Tommy could almost _see_ the ellipses shooting through Adam's thoughts, and had Tommy not been trying to hide his junk from creepy alien eyes, he would've facepalmed. It was exactly what he'd suspected. They both glared at the aliens. "I'm _straight,_ " Tommy repeated, through gritted teeth, while Adam shouted, "The fate of the world depends on _this?_ "

The aliens nodded solemnly. "It's for science," the British one said.

"If we cannot prove or disprove this theory for the Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission—who is a _huge_ 'A-do-mmy shi-pper?'"

"'Adommy shipper,'" Adam corrected, lips curled in disgust, and Tommy could hear the revulsion in his voice.

"Thank you. If we cannot prove or disprove this theory—"

"Then we must destroy a planet. Your planet. We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

Adam threw up his hands. "Oh, for fuck's sake! This is...I have never heard anything more _ridiculous_ in my life—and, lemme tell you, I've heard some pretty fucking ridiculous shit since I joined Twitter, oh my _God_."

Tommy shook his head. "Guys, I'm _straight_. Straight. I don't like dudes like that. When Adam was a chick, he was, like, really fucking _hot_ , but now?" He looked at Adam from head to toe. Even he thought Adam was physically impressive, but sexually interesting? Dude, it was _Adam_. It was impossible not to feel turned on when he was oozing sexual energy out of every pore as he strutted across the stage, but beyond that? Nothing. "Yeah, sure, he's good looking for a guy, I guess."

"Gee, _thanks_." Adam rolled his eyes and turned his back toward them all, then began inspecting his junk.

Tommy shrugged. "I'm just not interested. He's," Tommy tore a hand away from his crotch and waved it in the air in the vague shape of a woman, then went back to shielding his body, "shaped all wrong, and he has, like, all of the wrong parts, and changing him into a girl again ain't gonna change any of that, because Adam is Adam."

The Southern alien held up her remote again. "I guess this will be the end of planet Earth, then," she said, and suddenly, Tommy could picture it. Bile rose in his throat. The end of everything. No more world. Jesus Christ, these peop—er, _aliens—_ were batshit fucking insane. The world didn't deserve..."Pity. I always hoped to see the Leaning Tower of Pissa—"

"Pisa," Adam said, with an irritated glance over his shoulder.

"— _Pisa_ someday." Her tentacles inched toward the button. "Such a shame I'll have to—"

"Wait!" The guilt eating away at his insides was becoming too much. Causing all of that... "I'm sure I—" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure I can _maybe_ fake an interest or something." How hard—oh, shit, he did _not_ want to think of hard things with Adam's big-ass cock staring him in the face from behind Adam's hands—how _difficult_ could it be?

The aliens nodded, looking as satisfied as expressionless creatures could. "Lie back and think of England," the British alien said. Tommy gulped, and he turned to Adam for some kind of reassurance.

Adam turned back to him, and he looked just as uncertain as Tommy felt. "Um, I'll _try_ to make it good for you?"

 

Once upon a time, there were two men. One was named Adam Lambert, and he was a rock star. The other was called Tommy Joe Ratliff, and he was a rock star's bass player. And on one loud and rowdy night, the rock star kissed the bass player on American television, and it all went downhill from there.

After watching the performance, the esteemed Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission discovered the existence of the Earthling website LiveJournal and, almost simultaneously, the existence of a form of entertainment known as "fanfiction." Since the rock star made the mistake of saying he was "here for your entertainment," she expected more and more as she devoured fic after fic and vid after vid.

Some aliens—Humphrey and 4242, to be exact—have begun to suspect that the Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission is a member of the website Twitter (with multiple sockpuppet accounts) and that she regularly @replies Adam and Tommy with some of that "pretty fucking ridiculous shit" that Mr. Lambert has seen on his feed. If asked, she will reply with a mysterious smile and begin humming the song "Down the Rabbit Hole."

It is best not to ask why.

 

The aliens—who Tommy and Adam soon learned were called Humphrey and 4242—led the two of them down a long, brightly lit hallway and into a room that was so decadent it made Tommy's eyes almost bug out of his head. "Holy _shit_ ," Adam whispered, his eyes just as wide as they both took in the rich red velvet bed curtains, the sleek black satin sheets, and the brilliant gold gilding that seemed to adorn _everything_.

"We'll be watching y'all through there," 4242 said, pointing toward the ornate mirror across from the obscenely plush bed.

"But we would like you to act as though we are not present," Humphrey added.

" _Easier said than done_ ," Tommy thought. Adam said it out loud.

"Would music help?" 4242 waved a tentacle, and the opening of "Fever" began to play.

Tommy groaned, while Adam's face turned red, and he shouted, "No, no, _no! Not_ one of _my songs!_ "

With another wave of a tentacle, the music stopped. "Sorry. The Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission banned all other musicians after your American Music Awards performance."

" _Seriously?_ " Adam gaped. "That's one of my worst performances."

"Vocally, yes," Humphrey agreed. "Sexually—"

"The Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission has always been... _fascinated_ by human sexuality." So, one of the people in charge of the Universe was a big fucking pervert? A lot of things suddenly made a disturbing amount of sense. "And when y'all appeared—"

"'Captivated' would not be a strong enough word to describe her reaction."

Adam looked like he was at a loss for words. "Well." He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, then let out an awkward laugh. "I hope we don't disappoint her."

"If you do..." 4242 trailed off, and she held up the ominous remote once again.

Tommy tried to swallow down the nausea building in his stomach. It didn't work, especially when 4242 gave them a cheerful, "Have fun, boys!" and oozed out of the room, followed by Humphrey, who let out a disdainful sniff as he passed. The door slamming closed behind, echoing with a cold finality, and Tommy moved his hands away from his crotch and wrapped his arms around himself.

This was it. They had to do it.

He and Adam stood in awkward silence, both trying not to look at each other for too long. Adam kept raising his hand to reach out, then pulling it back quickly, while Tommy tried to shrink down into nothing. He was shaking all over, cold, stripped naked in what felt like more ways than one. Words couldn't express how much he didn't want to do this. Sure, curious thoughts about experimentation had flitted across his mind before—who _wouldn't_ at least consider the idea once or twice after spending the night with their rock star boss and friend kissing them until they couldn't breathe while grinding his rock hard, gigantic cock against their practically nonexistent ass?

But this was _Adam_ , who he'd watched cry over very shitty movies, who he'd caught sneaking bites from the carton of someone else's ice cream after bitching about calories, who had turned his life upside down and had somehow become one of the best friends he'd ever had, and who was a _man_. An actual gay man, with XY chromosomes and a big damn penis and all that shit. And with _feelings_.

God, how much was this going to hurt a sweetheart like Adam? __  
  
Tommy let go of himself. He'd be okay. Adam, though...Tommy did the reaching out, gently placing a hand on Adam's arm. "You okay, man?"

Adam jerked in surprise, eyes widening in shock, then he bit his lip and nodded. "I think so, yeah," he said, but the quiver in his voice made him sound completely unconvincing. "You?"

Tommy shook his head. "Fuck no," he said, quietly. "I'm kinda scared out of my mind."

Adam let out a relieved, mirthless laugh. "Oh my God, me too. I feel like a fucking virgin all over again." Finally, Adam touched him, running his knuckles soothingly across Tommy's chest. "I promise you, baby, I'm gonna try to do everything I can to keep this from hurting you. If I make you uncomfortable at any point, I want you to tell me to stop, okay?"

Tommy nodded. "Okay."

"No, seriously, I mean it." Adam shook his head. "No sucking it up and dealing with it to get this over with, no forcing yourself to take something you don't want. This is _so_ fucked up already, and I just—Tommy, I _really_ don't want to hurt you. I love you. You're my friend. And even though this sucks so much, I want you to enjoy it." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tommy's cheek, then murmured, "I don't want this to be the worst night of our lives."

"Me neither." He wrapped Adam in a tight hug, and Adam pulled him even closer. "I trust you," he said, burying his face against Adam's chest. Adam felt comfortable and familiar, but _different_ without clothes, hard in places where women were soft, covered in coarse, pale hair in places where women had none. He stepped back and reached out to trace along the lines of Adam's body, getting used to the feel, and Adam shuddered and swallowed hard.

"Do whatever you'd like," he said, voice strangely quiet.

"Bed?" Tommy suggested. "I mean—"

Adam took him by the hand and started toward the bed. "You're calling the shots here."

"You're the one who knows what to do." Tommy dropped his hand. "Or whatever."

"And you're the one," Adam sat on the edge of the bed and smiled sadly at Tommy, "who wants this the least."

"Well, if it had to be anyone," Tommy tentatively stroked Adam's cheek, and Adam's eyes fluttered closed, "I'm glad it's you." He traced his thumb across Adam's lips, feeling their softness and shape. Adam, Adam, familiar Adam. He knew the mouth, knew the face, knew the man..."And it's not, like..." He paused and stared at the floor, trying to figure out how to phrase his next words. "I mean, I've kind of thought of it before." Swallowing hard, he stepped away, and tried to hide his burning face. His hands shook, and he twisted them together. "Kind of," he shrugged, and he turned and gave Adam a wry smile over his shoulder, "like, I'm kind of curious about it, but—"

Adam looked up at him, and he could see the questions in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," Tommy shrugged, "with all we do, y'know? I'm still straight!" His words came out hurried, and he cringed. Oh, God, this was bad, _so_ bad, he _so_ didn't mean for it to come out like that. "Not that—" He broke off with a frustrated sigh. Fuck, there was no way to make any of what he'd just said any better, fucking stupid, he sounded so fucking stupid... "Maybe we can, I don't know…" He threw up his hands helplessly. "Shit, this is so fucked up, and anything I say's gonna fuck it up more, so, like…it's an experiment, I guess?"

"Oh, baby." Adam's quiet laugh had a bittersweet edge. "Yeah, it kinda is. I mean, for them..." He waved toward the mirror, then shook his head. "You know what? Fuck them." He held open his arms, motioning Tommy forward. "Let's make this about us."

"I don't—" He cast one last wary glance over Adam's body, but the confidence in Adam's gaze made him step closer and sink down, straddling Adam's lap. "Okay," he said, and Adam leaned forward and claimed his lips.

The kiss was awkward at first, filled with nerves and lacking all the ease of their practiced stage antics. Noses bumped, teeth clashed and scraped, and Tommy had to cling to Adam's waist to keep from falling. Then, Adam took control, and, _fuck_ , Adam was a good kisser, knew how to move and guide their mouths until Tommy melted against him, eyes fluttering shut as he gave in to the heat and the intoxicating taste of Adam and lingering wine. They fell back against the bed, and, God, it was nothing like before, nothing like onstage, this time filled with heat and passion and _meaning_ , with unsaid words and messages Tommy's slowly burning brain and body could barely begin to understand. He moaned, and Adam kissed him deeper, and he could do nothing but give back and give _in_ as thoughts of permission and surrender flitted through his mind.

Adam's hand reached up and wrapped around his neck, guiding his chin, while the other slid down to cup his ass and pull him closer, against his—oh, _fuck_. He ground shamelessly against Adam, seeking the delicious friction of their cocks sliding over each other, bright and white-hot. Tommy kissed back harder, kissed like they were dying, and, with a jolt, he realized it very well could be, and he jerked back, panting. "Fuck."

Adam nodded, red, kiss-swollen mouth hanging open, and he stared up at Tommy, lust-dark eyes wide. "Yeah," he breathed, awestruck.

Tommy stared back, unable to speak. The weight of everything had become heavier, cast in stark relief. God. "What if we don't do this right?" His voice shook. "This could be, like, the last sex either of us ever have, especially if those...things in there say we're not doing it right."

"You're doing fine," 4242 said, and Tommy grimaced. He needed to start whispering.

"I just—"

"Tommy, it's okay," Adam said, and he reached up and traced his fingertips across Tommy's cheek, his touch featherlight and electric. Tommy couldn't help but lean into his palm, seeking the gentle reassurance. "If there's anything we both know how to do besides music, I'm pretty sure it's sex." Tommy couldn't hold back a small chuckle, and Adam grinned. "Sex is sex," Adam said, and he leaned up and kissed Tommy again, nipping his lip playfully before lying back against the sheets. "You touch me, I touch you, we do what feels good until we both get off."

Adam paused for a moment, a thoughtful look across his face. "Now, I ain't gonna say parts don't matter, 'cause I saw how you were trying not to look at me when I was a girl back there...." Tommy felt his face grow hot, and he turned away. "No, honey, no." Adam nudged his chin and made Tommy look at him. "It's okay. You like what you like, I like what I like, and one of us likes girls and the other likes guys. Ain't nothin' wrong with that. But you know what?"

A slow fire of something he could almost call confidence started building inside him. Adam was right. Adam knew sex. "That doesn't mean it won't work?"

"Exactly!" Adam smiled the first real smile Tommy had seen on his face since the whole mess started, and he felt himself start to truly relax. Maybe things would be okay. "So, don't worry about doing it wrong, 'cause I'm sure you know how to touch somebody, and I can help you out when we get to the other parts...wait. Hey, er, aliens?"

After a moment, Humphrey replied, "Yes, Mr. Lambert?"

"Can we just, like, get each other off, or do we have to—"

"Our instructions say you are required to sexually penetrate Mr. Ratliff."

Adam swore under his breath. "Worth a shot," Tommy said, and he sat back on his knees between Adam's legs. The burst of confidence died away and uncertainties began flooding back as he looked down at Adam's body. Touch that feels good. Right. But there was a wide expanse of bare skin stretched out before him, and his mind had gone completely blank on what to do, and, fuck—

Adam seemed to realize what was going through his head, and he said, "Tommy, just touch me. You were doing it before."

"I know, but... _Jesus_." He cast another glance along Adam's body. "You're a _guy_."

"And last time I checked," Adam jerked his head toward Tommy's crotch, and gave him a teasing smirk, "so are you." That still didn't help, and Tommy bit his lip. Adam's expression softened. "Look, just close your eyes and, I don't know, lay your hand on my belly. Right here." Adam patted his stomach, just above his navel, then dropped his hand back to his side. "And go from there, okay?"

"Okay." The belly was safe enough, Tommy told himself. He closed his eyes, and he reached out and placed a shaking hand against the warm flesh of Adam's stomach. "Now?"

"Now, just explore. Just _feel_." He couldn't bring himself to move. He could feel Adam's body shake as he spoke, could feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathed deep and slow. "It's okay, baby." Tommy began to breathe with him, trying to reach Adam's easy confidence. "Move your hand wherever you want, and—" Finally, Tommy lifted his palm and trailed his fingertips across the slight curve of Adam's stomach. Adam inhaled sharply. Tommy froze. "No, no, I—" Adam laughed softly. "It's okay, Tommy; I promise. Just...go wherever your hand takes you."

Tommy nodded, and, cautiously, he began to move his rough fingertips over Adam's smooth, delicate skin. He barely skimmed across it, drawing formless patterns across his body, feeling muscles twitch and clench beneath him. Alarm bells kept going off in his head—fuck, this was _Adam_ ; what if he did something wrong? He pushed the thoughts aside and experimentally pressed down, pressed deeper, just to feel the flesh give beneath his fingers. Adam wasn't fat, not even chubby—anyone who called him that was an idiot, and Tommy would've been more than happy to correct them with his fist—but he was soft and pliant over taut, firm muscles, and Tommy rubbed small, gentle lines and circles across his belly, learning the shape and the feel of the body stretched out before him.

Adam shifted beneath him and let out a small noise of approval, and Tommy began to experiment and explore. Touching Adam became easy. As his hand roamed, Adam melted beneath him, relaxing completely, and with every pleased sound low in Adam's throat, Tommy grew more comfortable. He touched Adam with his other hand, tracing along the line of a thigh and hip and up, and Adam murmured words of encouragement between increasingly ragged breaths.

"Good?" Tommy asked, hands drifting up Adam's body. Adam hummed in assent, and Tommy began tracing Adam's chest. While Adam's belly had been smooth and slightly soft, his chest was firm, broad and covered with faint, coarse hair. He let himself _feel_ the contrasts between hair and skin, let himself trace the lines and curves and slopes, until one of his hands accidentally brushed over a nipple. Adam sucked in a sharp breath, and Tommy's eyes flew open.

They stared at each other, the air between them drawn tight and thick. Tommy tried to speak, but words refused to come. Oh, God, this was all real. He was touching Adam—no, _touching_ Adam. This was far more significant than a brush of shoulders as they passed by each other, even more so than a kiss shared on television in front of the outraged masses. He'd never been with another man like this, and, fuck, the power was overwhelming, intoxicating. Adam was at his mercy— _Adam_ , who already held so much power over him, who was looking at him with desperation, pupils blown wide, red lips parted as he fought to breathe.

Tommy smirked, and he dragged his hand back to Adam's nipple to tease the hard point between his fingertips. Adam groaned and breathed a harsh, "Fuck, _Tommy_ ," and, God, he wanted more, wanted Adam writhing beneath him, helpless with need, wanted to feel more, wanted to know more, wanted to know what Adam's warm and freckled skin felt like beneath his tongue, wanted to taste the hard line of collarbone and long sweep of neck and _everything_. Adam looked like sex, _smelled_ like sex, like sweat-damp skin and heady cologne and heat and _Adam_ , pure Adam, familiar and addictive as fuck, and, God, _gorgeous_ , beautiful and wrecked.

"You... _Jesus_ ," he said, and Adam looked up, and Tommy fucking _had_ to kiss him, a need so strong he questioned its reality, questioned everything's reality. "All I wanna do is touch you. I feel like you're a drug."

Adam chuckled, and he leaned forward, a wicked smile stretched across his face. "Maybe I am," he said, and he and Tommy were kissing again, slow and lazy and easy as they learned each other's mouths, and it was like fucking Amsterdam again but _more_ , deeper and hotter and _powerful_ as Tommy let himself go, pouring his entire being into that one fucking kiss. Everything was heightened, from the taste of Adam on his tongue to the slide of Adam's hands along his back as they pulled him close to the friction of their bodies against each other's cocks, and, hell, maybe they _were_ on drugs, maybe the aliens had pumped the air full of hormones and chemicals, but he didn't care. As long as Adam kept kissing him, nothing else mattered.

As long as Adam kept kissing him, they were still alive.

Tommy felt like he could've kissed forever, but then Adam slid a finger along the cleft of his ass, and he broke away with a sharp gasp at the twisting jolt of heat deep and low inside him. " _Fuck_ ," he breathed, and Adam smirked.

"You like that?" Tommy could only nod as Adam trailed his finger along the gap between his cheeks, his touch maddeningly light, sending all of Tommy's thoughts and plans fleeing from his brain. "I don't think you're ready for that yet, baby."

"Son of a—Lambert... _bastard_..."

Adam chuckled. "I want you," he said, and he kissed Tommy on the chin, "to want it so fucking bad," he slipped the finger between Tommy's cheeks, and Tommy shuddered as it skimmed over his hole, "that you're begging for it."

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?"

"You are nowhere near close enough yet," he said, and flipped Tommy onto his back and pinned him with his weight. They stared into each other's eyes, Adam seemingly asking permission. Then, before Tommy could nod, Adam started giggling. "Tommy?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah?"

Adam laughed. "We are _so_ doped up right now."

 

Ever since Adam Lambert arrived on Earth's music scene, rumors have spread like space debris across the universe. One of these rumors, first reported by Adam's brother Neil, declared that Adam was a "glittery alien from Planet Fierce." I regret to inform you that this is not the case. While it is possible that Adam might have descended from Planet Fierce's fabulous race of gorgeous, glam, and preternaturally talented beings* or that his conception was influenced by pheromones released through space and time during the Fiercians' almost constant mating season, extensive research has shown that Adam is, in fact, an Earthling. An exceptional and fabulous Earthling, to be sure, but an Earthling nonetheless.

Sorry to disappoint.

 

* However, we must note here that there is _no_ species in the universe, whether they think they have been contacted by alien life forms or not, that is untouched by the DNA of beings from other planets, _including_ Earthlings.

In short: If it _can_ be fucked, it _will_ be fucked and, most likely, _has_ been fucked.

 

Tommy blinked at Adam, wrinkling his face in confusion until his confusion gave way to simmering anger. "Do you think I'm just enjoying this because—"

"Do you feel normal at all? Really?"

Adam looked at him with raised eyebrows, questioning. Tommy glared, and Adam brushed a hand over his nipple, and, oh, _God_ , he had never been that sensitive before. He arched against Adam, seeking more friction for his desperate cock, and his moan trailed off into, "Fuck, you're right. It's not just good—"

"It's _too_ good. Now, I'm not saying I don't like it, but—"

"Yeah." It wasn't real. It was reality _intensified_ , twisted into something else. _Fuck_. He pushed at Adam's shoulder, and Adam rolled onto his back. Then, Tommy sat up and shouted, "Hey, perverts?"

For a moment, silence filled the room, save for the sounds of their heavy breathing, then Humphrey replied, "Yes, Mr. Ratliff?"

"What the fuck did you guys give us?" Adam asked.

There was no answer.

Tommy growled. "Seriously, you douchebags, what—"

"We, um," 4242 sounded uncomfortable, and she cleared her throat. "We might've impregnated the laundry detergent with a few little ol' ap-h-rod-isaacs—"

"Aphrodisiacs," Adam said, while Tommy tried to banish sudden and disturbing mental images involving rods, multiple Isaacs, and impregnation. Goddamn fanfic.

"Thank you. We impregnated the laundry detergent with aphrodisiacs, and we introduced a cocktail of pheromones into the air supply, because we thought this would make the whole process easier for y'all. Why? Is this going to be a problem?"

Tommy and Adam exchanged a glance, and Tommy flopped back on the bed. "Hell yeah, if your hypothesis is that having sex with Adam's gonna turn me gay."

"And what is the prob—"

Tommy cut Humphrey off. "Dude, that was quickly turning into some of the absolute best sex I have _ever_ had, man, and we were barely even doing anything! I was, like, feeling a whole bunch of shit I have _never_ felt for a girl, and if it got any better, I was gonna end up, like, getting down on one knee and fucking _proposing_ to Adam or some shit—"

"Aw, baby," Adam said, and Tommy turned and saw him give him a dopey, sweet smile.

Tommy smiled back and patted him on the cheek. "You're too cute, Lambert." Adam's grin grew wider, and Tommy kissed him on the nose. Then, he sat up again and glared at the mirror. He was so angry he was shaking, scared and betrayed and fucking frustrated. The weirdness of everything made him bolder, and he went on, shouting, "You guys seriously fucked your research up, and, God, I do not envy you guys having to tell your leader that you had to let us get away with just jerking each other off 'cause you fucked up and we figured it out."

"Just jerking off?" Adam sounded disappointed, and he rolled over and wrapped himself around Tommy's side, curling up around him like—God, Tommy didn't even fucking know, but he suspected it somehow involved tentacles. Ew. "I'm good at that, too, though." Adam kissed him on the side, and Adam's hand crept toward his still really fucking hard dick. Tommy grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand away.

"Look, just wait a second, okay? Maybe—"

"YOU TWO _WILL_ FUCK," an unfamiliar voice boomed, shaking the entire spaceship. Adam jerked away with a yelp, and Tommy's heart tried to leap from his chest. "I had you two brought here for my entertainment, and, theory or not, you two _will_ provide me with what I am entitled to."

Voice quivering, Adam said, "Entitlement's not sexy."

"Silence!" Adam jumped, and he wrapped himself around Tommy again, burying his face against his hip and whimpering. Even though he was nearly overcome with fear, Tommy reached down and began stroking Adam's mussed hair to comfort him, remembering how little Adam cared for scary movies about aliens. "Do you not realize who I am?"

Shit. The Leader. Tommy raised a shaking hand, and he held up two fingers, hoping he remembered correctly which was the peace sign and which was the insult. "We come in peace?" he said.

"And come you shall." As suddenly as the voice began, it ended, filling the spaceship with a terrible ghastly silence. No one spoke, no one moved but Tommy's suddenly wilting boner, and, hell, Tommy wasn't even sure if anyone breathed. He sure the fuck didn't.

Then, Adam broke the silence with another soft whimper, and Tommy began stroking his hair once again. "It's okay, Adam."

"Okay? It's _not okay!_ " Adam drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly, and he peered up at Tommy. "How the fuck are you so calm right now? Oh my _God_."

Tommy shrugged, and he looked down at the tattoos on his arms. "Kinda got a lot of practice with freaky shit, y'know?"

Adam stared at him for a moment in disbelief, then laughed softly and squeezed Tommy in a small hug. "Thanks, baby." He sat up slowly. "So, um." He swallowed. "I'm kinda ready to get out of here, aren't you?"

Tommy could tell what he meant, and he nodded. "What do you need—"

"Lie back and spread your legs." Adam rolled over and reached toward the bedside table, and Tommy couldn't tell if it was the chemicals or something else that made him trace a hand over Adam's ass. Adam went still, then he turned and smirked at Tommy. "Like what you see?" he asked, and wiggled his hips.

Tommy snorted. "Kinda jealous," he replied, and squeezed a handful of Adam's round ass. Adam groaned, and Tommy squeezed him again, then caressed him reverently."Your ass is amazing." He felt a slight stab of disappointment when he realized that probably the only reason he found the strong lines of Adam's back and the curve of Adam's shapely ass so appealing was the drugs, but that didn't stop him from kneading the flesh beneath his palm and fingertips.

Adam let out an approving sound from within his throat, then began searching through the table's drawer. "My ass is _fat_ ," Adam said, and Tommy snorted in disagreement and kept playing with Adam's ass. It wasn't fat. It was round and firm, the kind of ass some would call "lush," smooth and generously curved and beautiful, Adam's insecurities be damned. Sensual. Adam's body was sensual, and part of Tommy regretted that he wouldn't have long enough to enjoy it the way it deserved. "No, seriously, it's— _there_." Adam held up a tube of lube victoriously, then tossed it back toward Tommy. "We'll definitely be needing that, and—" Adam went back to rummaging through the drawer, then muttered, "Dammit."

Tommy stopped rubbing Adam's ass, and Adam sat back on his knees, disappointment on his face. "What?" Tommy asked.

"No condoms. I'm not gonna—" Adam shook his head, and he turned toward the mirror. "Uh, excuse me, you guys—you forgot the condoms."

He could hear the confusion in Humphrey's voice when he replied, "But men of your species are unable to procreate with each other without technology that is still beyond your capabilities. Why would you need—"

"Um, _disease_." Adam rolled his eyes. "Now, I'm sure we're both clean, but you can never be too careful—" Before Adam could continue, a single condom appeared on the bed. Satisfied, Adam said, "Thank you!" in a cheery tone, and he rolled over and gave Tommy a predatory leer. "Ready?" he asked, and gone was dorky, adorable Adam. He could see the confidence in Adam's eyes as Adam crawled toward him, and Tommy licked his lips and sprawled back across the bed. "Perfect," Adam said, and a shudder went through Tommy as Adam began stroking his chest. His arousal had faded as they'd argued with the aliens, but the heat of Adam's stare and the hand sliding down his body made him start growing hard again. "If you want me to stop," Adam said, and Tommy bit back a groan as Adam wrapped a hand around his aching cock, "tell me."

"Can't stop," Tommy said, breath stuttering as Adam stroked him to full hardness. With each slow drag of Adam's hand, he spread his legs wider, wanting more, _needing_ more. "Please. Let's—"

"Okay," Adam said, sounding breathless. "Okay." He let go of Tommy's cock and began toying with Tommy's balls, and Tommy groaned. God, everything was starting to feel amazing again, intense and pleasant heat burning along his nerves, along his veins, deep within his blood and belly and brain, the universe narrowed to Adam's hands on him and body near him and eyes staring down at him. "You think you're ready?"

Tommy nodded, and somehow said, "As ready as I'll ever be."

"All right." Adam let go of his balls, and Tommy whimpered at the loss. "It's okay, baby," Adam said, and patted his thigh, then snapped open the lube. Tommy watched, entranced, as Adam slicked his fingers with the sticky, clear fluid. "Let me know if anything hurts too much, okay? I'm serious. If—"

"Just _do it_." Tommy huffed, impatient as all hell. He needed _more_ , right the fuck now, needed touch and release, needed the finger skimming across the edge of his hole to slide in—oh, _fuck_ , that felt strange when it finally did, all pressure and burning pain mixed with pleasure. He let out a harsh breath and mouthed, "Wow."

"Good?"

Tommy didn't know whether to nod or shake his head. There was a finger in his ass. There was a _finger_ in his _ass_. "Damn, that's—" Strange and foreign and not so unpleasant as the pain faded away, leaving pure intensity he couldn't quite call pleasure. " _Jesus_."

"Just relax." Adam pushed in deeper, and Tommy couldn't hold back a moan. Adam chuckled. "Like that, baby?" Adam thrust gently with his finger, pulling out and pushing in with almost agonizing slowness, and each push and pull set Tommy's nerves on edge. God, it was too much, too fucking much, not enough. He needed more, needed _everything_ …

"Fuck, _please_ , more," Tommy begged. "Harder."

"Tommy, you don't have to have—"

"Jesus fuck, Adam, _please_." If Adam didn't give in, he was gonna fucking _break_.

Adam obliged, thrusting deeper and harder and faster, and, oh, fuck, _yes_ , and then Adam edged in a second finger and said, "Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Tommy Joe, you have no idea." The huskiness in Adam's voice hit Tommy like a hot and beautiful punch to the gut, and he groaned aloud. "Yeah," Adam said. "Wish you could see yourself like this, opening up so well for me, baby. Oh my God."

"I'm a hot piece of ass," Tommy joked, and Adam chuckled.

"You have no idea how right you are." Adam crooked his fingers, and, oh, _God_ , sparks shot through Tommy's blood and spine and brain. Sweet fucking _Christ_. Adam teased that spot inside, and his fists curled in the sheets, clenching so hard his fingers ached. He pushed back against Adam's hand, seeking more, and, oh, fuck, he never would've resisted if he'd known it'd feel like _this_ …

Another finger slid in, and Adam fucked him like that, Tommy rocking helplessly against him, moaning desperately, babbling words like "more" and "now" and "fuck... _Adam_ " as that glorious bastard moved his hand. His brain was on fire, fucking _melting_ , his cock aching for release. He fumbled a hand free from its grip on the sheets and wrapped it around his cock, and, _God_ , everything was so fucking _magnified_ that nothing quite made sense anymore.

Before he could get a rhythm on his cock with the fingers moving inside him, Adam pulled out, wringing a sharp whine of protest from Tommy's throat. He forced open his eyes to glare at that traitorous motherfucker and saw Adam reach over and grab the condom. "It's okay, baby," Adam said, and ripped open the wrapper with his teeth. Tommy watched as Adam sat back and—oh, right, _that_ was why he'd resisted. His eyes went wide, because—

"Okay," he forced out, and his hand fell from his dick, "there is no fucking way that huge fucking thing's gonna fit in my fucking ass."

Adam laughed quietly and slid the condom the rest of the way over his fucking _massive_ , holy _shit_ , cock. If it had looked big before, it looked fucking _gargantuan_ now, sweet Christ, huge and hard and staring him in the face. He must have said it out loud, because Adam laughed harder, the bastard, and said, "It's no bigger than it was before—trust me. I—" Adam broke off, inhaling softly as he slicked lube along his thick, long, enormous cock. "I know my dick."

Oh, he didn't doubt that. If he had a dick that size, he'd be keeping an eye on it, too, just to make sure it didn't come alive and strangle anyone in the night. "Yeah, but, how am I supposed—"

Adam leaned over him and kissed him on the lips, gentle but in no fucking way reassuring. "You're ready for it. My fingers felt good, didn't they?" Tommy nodded. "See? This is gonna be just as amazing, Tommy, I promise." Adam kissed him again. "I'll make it amazing."

"Adam, I can't—"

"You _can_ ; I promise. You've been so good for me, Tommy." He took one of Tommy's hands in his and squeezed it gently. "Just take a deep breath, baby, and let it out slowly..." Tommy did as he was told, and when he exhaled, Adam pushed _in_ , and while Adam made a tiny gasp of pleasure as his eyes fell shut, Tommy let out a choked sound. Adam stopped, and he gave Tommy a concerned look. "You okay?"

"Motherfuck, motherfuck, mother _fuck_ …" He'd never felt anything like it, big and stretching him further than he'd ever imagined. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever felt by far, but having that big fucking monster cock filling him sure as fuck wasn't comfortable yet. "Give me a minute," he choked out, and forced himself to breathe. Jesus fucking _Christ_ …

"There you go." Adam reached out and gently stroked Tommy's belly. "Just breathe, and—fuck, I should've prepped you more, but I got so caught up—God, you have no idea what you looked like, what you look like now, and I just—"

"Don't." He was starting to get used to it, the burn of hurt fading to another kind of burn, and with the aliens..."None of this shit's our fault. Now, just—let's get this over with."

"I don't think—" The guilt and fear and worry on Adam's face twisted his insides, and unable to stand it, Tommy slid himself down on Adam's cock, burying it to the hilt. Adam let out a string of virulent swears that trailed off into a moan while Tommy hissed in pleasure-pain. Oh, _Christ_ , all he could feel was Adam's cock inside him, intense and real and fucking _there_ and, oh dear fuck, not enough… "You crazy—"

"Hurry up and _fuck me_."

"Bossy," Adam said, but began rocking his hips. He thrust in a steady rhythm, and with each push and pull, Tommy couldn't hold back small hisses and tiny groans as he tried to suck air into his lungs. Tension coiled tight and white hot in Tommy's gut. He wrapped his legs tight around Adam, urging him deeper, and Adam moaned and drove harder, muscles in his face tensing as he tried to keep his control, tried to keep from letting go—a battle he was slowly losing as he fucked Tommy harder and harder.

Tommy fumbled for the lube and squeezed it on his fingers, then took his cock in hand and began stroking it fast and hard and tight. The wet, hot slide around his dick and the increasing pace of Adam fucking him was almost too much, and still he needed more. "Harder," he begged, voice cracking, "please, fuck, _Adam_." His mind was nearly gone, disappearing more with every stroke, every thrust, every move between their bodies, and he let himself go, his hand moving frantically as Adam drove deeper. Adam's fingers joined his around his cock, his thumb sliding over the head while the rest held Tommy's steady at the base, and that was it. Tommy was gone, arching his back and coming hard between their bellies.

Spent, he sank down and closed his eyes, while Adam's final thrusts sent shocks through his overtaxed body. Then, Adam went still, and let out a cry of pained pleasure as he came, and all Tommy could think of was how beautiful he looked, head flung back, body stretched and pulled to the limit, mind lost to the universe. When it was over, Adam collapsed on top of him, staring at him through his damp black hair, dazed and wrecked. Tommy wrapped his arms around him and kissed him lazily, slow and easy between shuddering breaths as they enjoyed the afterglow. He felt warm and safe, protected by the weight of Adam's body as reality filtered back to him.

When he could finally speak, he murmured, "Think it's over?" in Adam's ear.

"I don't know," Adam replied, with a small shrug, and gave Tommy another sweet, soft kiss. "I guess we'll find out." Adam pulled out of him and snuggled against his side, leaving him empty. Tommy almost missed the feeling of Adam inside him, the uncomplicated need and heat and comfort. He sighed, and his heart twisted painfully when Adam quietly asked, "How much of that was the drugs, do you think?"

"I have no idea," he said, and kissed Adam again.

 

In a far away galaxy, the Leader of the Universal Planetary Commission was satisfied. She reached for a packet of cigarettes, shook one out onto an outstretched tentacle, and proceeded to have herself a damn good fap and a damn good smoke.

Watching sex was so much better than having it, she thought. The noises were a lot less grating, there were fewer bones and tissues to pick out of her teeth afterward, and there were fewer extra pounds and extra children to deal with later.

And humans were a lot prettier than her fellow Ioeyrahyireians.

"Spare them all," she said, and Humphrey and 4242 nodded obediently and proceeded to dismantle the ominous remote and to prepare to send the humans home.

Yes, watching sex was better than having it, except she didn't get to keep the men forever.

Well, not _these_ men. Perhaps she could find herself a pair that would not be missed...

 

Tommy did not wake up gently. One moment, he was still floating in blissful oblivion, the next he was under attack. The sun stabbed into his brain through his eyelids, the air scraped his eardrums with sandpaper as he breathed, the laughter down the hall...oh, God, why the fuck was laughter not illegal yet?

Clearly, somebody needed to die, and the universe thought it should be him.

He fumbled for the other pillow, swallowing down nausea, except swallowing made him finally taste the graveyard of his mouth and made everything even fucking worse. Wrinkling his nose, he swallowed. Ugh. Disgusting. Fuck, smothering himself to death seemed more appealing by the second. He kept reaching for the pillow, and his hand collided with a warm, solid lump of something. A warm, solid, _breathing_ lump of something. A warm, solid, breathing lump of something bigger than him, with hair and skin and everything. _Shit_.

His eyes flew open, and he whipped his head around to—big fucking mistake. Swearing, he covered his face with his arm and whimpered as the room spun and reality turned on its axis, and surely that wasn't _Adam_ amidst the nuclear-bright glow of searing sunlight, was it?

The warm, solid, breathing lump of something moaned pitifully, and... _fuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck his fucking _life_ , Jesus _fuck_...

"Oh, God," a very Adam-esque voice said, and he heard the warm, solid, breathing lump of Adam-shaped something begin to move, rustling the covers and shaking the bed and making his fucking stomach making another attempt at a violent escape. "I am _never_ drinking again." It—or he, rather, because that was _definitely_ Adam—groaned. "Oh, God, I think I'm dying."

Tommy wasn't dying—he was already dead. He was in Hell. Fuck his fucking atheism, he was gonna find the nearest Bible and repent his fucking head off as soon as it stopped screaming and banging and spinning the room. Everything hurt somehow, his brain, his hair, his ass...and there, his thoughts hurtled to a screeching, train crash halt.

His ass didn't usually hurt when he had a hangover. Did they...

"Adam," he began, and made a disgusted face, because, dear fuck, his _mouth_ , "did we get abducted by aliens last night?"


End file.
